


"Awaken, My Love!"

by AlgoDeMi



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Reader-Insert, Slow Build, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-18 06:16:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10610976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlgoDeMi/pseuds/AlgoDeMi
Summary: Jacob had never loved, living a life of smile and glee,never feeling the cages of compromise, cherishing the feel to be free.The day his eyes fell upon you, it was a day he would never forget.He recalls the event to your children, 'The Night Me and Your Mama Met.'*story inspired by childish gambino's most recent album*





	1. Have Some Love

**Author's Note:**

> taking a small break from the longer fic I was working on... i decided to start on this little side-project! it will include 3 chapters in total, each containing an important event that occurred in the lives of you and Jacob. 
> 
> and once again, it was inspired by childish gambino's new album, "Awaken, My Love!" i loved the songs on the album and decided to make a short story based on what i felt while listening to the album.
> 
> hope you all enjoy! any criticism/comments are deeply appreciated, since they are the things that help me improve my writing. <3

#  Have Some Love 

The train ride to Crawley took longer than what you previously expected. It physically pained you to keep your eyes open for so long, even as you felt yourself drifting into the tempting clutches of slumber. You would pinch yourself on the arm, as hard as you could muster until you jolted yourself awake again. The hat atop your head, which concealed the long strands of hair bunched up messily on your scalp, would slip off whenever your head tilted too far off to the side. Looking around your barren surroundings, you would quickly gather and twist your hair up, firmly shoving your hat back on. 

It was rare to persuade your Father into letting you go off by yourself. Your reasons were quite blunt; your training will never be useful unless an assessment proves otherwise. Having committed to memory all of the defensive stances and moves your Father had taught you since the age you began to walk, you felt yourself ready to finally go off into the world and complete errands for him. There was only one condition: you would dress up as a beggar boy. 

You feigned indifference in front of your Father, as he passed you the ragged scraps of clothing that acted as overalls and a dress-shirt. But as you sat alone inside of that train, occasionally sneaking glimpses out towards the rushing scenery you passed, the odd feelings stirring deep within you became more noticeable. So much so, you began to fidget in your seat, tugging at the overall straps and rolled-up sleeves. You felt ridiculous. 

‘They were precautionary measures,’ your Father would say, patting your back as you left the comfort of your home in the middle of the night. Your right hand clutched around a small piece of paper, an address hastily scrawled in barely legible handwriting. You knew that midnight ventures were not your favorite pastime, but your Father needed a specific book from a specific place. If you needed to travel through the ends of the Earth to get the item for him, you would do it without hesitation. 

You pushed yourself up off the steel metal flooring, stumbling a few steps as you got used to the velocity of the train. It had been hours since you boarded, humming tunes to yourself throughout the entirety of the trip, focusing on not falling asleep. Now as you took a few steps to stretch your legs, cracking the joints as you went, you felt relieved to finally hear the train skidding to a halt. With the haggard movements you took, it was evident that you were drowsy. You weren’t even sure if you were going to get a chance to sleep anytime soon. 

Every damn foot you took was laced with exhaustion, but you couldn’t do much else but tough it out, with your given situation. The jump off the train -- before its workers began looking through the compartments -- was exhilarating enough to give you the adrenaline needed to continue on. You hadn’t realized your legs were asleep until you began using them again. Then, the pain set in.

Wincing as you went, you began your journey through the darkened streets of the sleepy town. You had no idea where you were, only that you had to find the bookshop. The motive became so etched in your mind that you had begun to ignore the cold glowers sent your way by the brutes who leaned casually in front of dim-lit stores. Even if they had snarled as you passed, you would have been none the wiser.

You had combed the area, desperately searching for a shop that had a name similar to the one scrawled on your paper. Its name seemed so off and out-of-place to you, but you double- and triple-checked each building regardless. The sheen of sweat that had accumulated on your forehead was beginning to irritate you, but with a look to your environment, you decided to tough it out. You knew that these types of people would have a riot by hearing word of a misplaced fifteen year-old girl walking lonesome on their streets. It would be unwise to provoke such a confrontation. 

You knew that you were lost, but your pride prevented you from asking anyone for help. It was foolish to act in such a way; you had acknowledged it many times in front of your Father. The information he would give you, regarding that aspect of your personality, always seemed to fall short. You would return to your ill-advised ways, despite everything your Father would tell you. You never expected someone to give you help, anyways. You had a face that looked too mean, a tone that seemed too harsh, and a glare-

“Goodness! You have passed by here three times, now! Are you lost?” Those sudden words lurched you out of your thoughts, raising your head to the sound of the voice. A silhouette of a short man stood at the doorway of a building to your left, with an abundance of light shining from behind him. Your eyes squinted at the establishment, deeming it lively enough to get somewhat close to. And the elderly man who waited for your response had a kind smile and friendly eyes, which was enough to coax you into speaking.

“I’m looking for a certain shop, sir. Perhaps you can help me in finding it?” You unrolled the paper from its bunched-up state, walking closer to the man to give him the address. He looked down at the paper, and then he looked back up at you. His wrinkled face livened up again, with his laughter lines being the most prominent of them all. He held his hand out for you. “Come along. We can speak inside.”

You knitted your eyebrows close together, opening your mouth to speak. Yet, the elderly man had left you with your mouth ajar, already retreating back inside the comfort of the building. If he hadn’t taken the piece of paper, you probably would have left the area immediately; alas, the only thing you really could do in that situation is follow in after him. 

Warmth encompassed your body the moment you stepped foot inside, a low chatter uttered out from the patrons as they drank a simmering liquid from their small china cups. You had never visited a coffeehouse before, and you averted your gaze quickly before the men around you noticed you staring.

The man beckoned you to join him, patting on the seat beside him. He was already pouring you a cup of coffee as you lifted yourself up on the chair. Sliding you the piece of paper, he let out a laugh. 

“What are you doing here in Crawley, searching for such a place at this time of hour?” He took a gradual sip of his coffee, with his eyes never leaving yours. You couldn’t help but feel a bit doubtful of the man, and you were praying to God that you put enough muck and grime on your face to conceal any hint of femininity in your face. 

“A friend of mine told me of the shop, sir. He… He wanted to see if they had a certain book. I could not find the address anywhere, however.” You began pouring milk into your cup, using the tiny spoon provided to mix it into your coffee. “Do you have any information to where I could find it?”

“Why is your friend not here with you, then?”

Your quick thinking has saved you on numerous occasions. This one is no different. “His parents, sir. Last week, he had gotten to a scuffle with another boy on the streets. Of course, his parents were fuming and have not let him go out on adventures with me anymore. I am doing this for him as a fav _or_.” Your pulse quickened when you felt your voice crack. The deepened tone you applied to your words was waning as time went on, feeling your throat get scratchy each time you uttered a sentence. As you watched the man narrow his gaze, you felt yourself instinctively clench your jaw. Your hand rested on the edge of your seat, as your right leg began violently tapping against the flooring. The man only hummed softly in response, seemingly disregarding the small slip-up on your part.

“How has your friend heard of this shop, if you do not mind me asking?” The tilt of his head irked you, feeling an accusatory stance being emitted from the way he spoke to you. You kept your head high and your stare steady. You reached over and poured a bit more coffee into your cup, until it reached the brim.

“A friend of a friend, sir. He had only told me of the shop a few days ago. The moment he told me that he needed the item, I was more than happy to help.” You lied with ease, taking a small sip of coffee. It burned your tongue, and its bitterness was able to wake you up completely.

His head nodded, as he dropped a few sugar cubes into his drink. A response never followed, and you could only assume it was because of the short-attention span the elderly seemed to have. You knew this because your grandfather was the sort to do that. You could never blame him, as it was out of his control, but it was a bit difficult to hold long conversations with the man. 

Your initial feeling of displacement returned in sporadic waves. At one moment, you would look to your surroundings with an amused smile, relishing in the apparent happiness the people around you emitted. And in the other, you remembered that with a slight tip of the hat, the whole facade would be over and you would probably be chased out of there with a gun. A fidgeting in your seat revealed your discomfort to the man, as he stopped speaking with the person beside him and turned back to you. “Is something wrong, young man?” You shook your head quickly, filling up your cheeks with coffee, even if the sensation burned the insides of your cheeks. “I forgot to introduce you to someone. He is a kind gentleman and he took great interest in your desire to find the bookshop.” He pointed a finger at the tall bloke who stood to his side, falling into a fit of laughter afterwards. Your eyebrow shot upwards, confused to why the old man found the situation humorous. As for the other gent to his side, he had only looked at you with glossy eyes and a stoic expression, so you didn’t lend him too much of your attention.

“So you need help finding the bookshop? I wonder why… The establishment is for people with advanced education and a…” He looked up and down at your attire, and you could have sworn that he scowled. “-status of nobility.”

“My friend has a mind ahead of his time. He was always interested in the oddest of things,” You shrugged, doing your best to envision this false person in your mind. Perhaps, if you do that, you’ll be able to describe him better. “Literature that is considered too advanced is not a problem for him-”

“Well, it may not be for him.” The tall man interjected you, indifferently sticking a hand in his pocket. He nodded his head in your direction, which made your eyes widen. “Where are you from? You obviously are not from around here.”

“What are you talking about, sir…” You slowly pointed out the door with a thumb, looking at him as if he were crazy. Despite your demeanor, his vicious temperament towards you remained. His scowls were becoming more frequent and the sound of his voice was harsh against the airs. “My family and I live not more than a few roads from here. I do not understand what you mean…” You had subconsciously moved as far away from him as you could, hanging off the edge of your seat by a thread. Each time he spoke, you forced yourself not to flinch. 

“ _Really?_ ” He drawled, rolling his eyes as the word flicked off his tongue. You gripped the edge of your seat as tightly as you could, knuckles going white and the palms of your hand being dug into. Goosebumps shot up your spine, realizing the severity of the situation you were in. Your eyes darted over to the elderly man, who only watched on silently with the same smile plastered on his expression. Observing delightfully as the taller man continued to interrogate you senselessly. Your stomach was flipping and the thumping against your ribcage was telling you to leave. “Your lies are evident, boy. That shop is owned by Ethan Frye, and that man is an incessant threat to the ideologies of the _Templars._ ” The moment he hissed out that dreaded name, you knew that you were discovered the moment you followed the old man in there. “Are you one of them? What is your affiliation with-”

You knew you acted without a care, but what else could you do? The tall man was reaching out to grab you by the arm, but within a blink of an eye, you had taken your cup of coffee in your hand and sent the boiling liquid hurling into the eyes of the two men. As the older man flailed, you snatched the paper from his grasp and made a run for it. Your actions were calling attention, and that attention was evoking outrage. 

You made sure to leave a mess in your trail, flipping over empty chairs and sending occupied tables to the floor in an effort to buy you some time. Once you dove out the exit, your legs picked up speed and the wind shot daggers into your exposed skin. Your free hand quickly rose to hold onto your hat, feeling the piece of clothing about to fly off if you didn’t help it stay in place. For the next few seconds, the only thing you were able to hear clearly was your own heavy breathing. 

Perhaps, if your senses would have returned to their natural state of alertness sooner, you would have heard the thundering footsteps that followed you through the street. You had thought, just for a second, that you were safe from that mess of an ordeal. Slowing down, taking deeper breaths, you hadn’t realized that you were being followed until you eventually turned back around. And with the strongest hit to the stomach you had ever received, you were sent flying off your feet.

The person who tackled you down to the floor had sent your hat soaring fathoms away, and you gasped to feel your hair flowing freely again. The hit your back received against the pavement was wince-inducing, tearing all of the air from your lungs as you laid there in obvious pain. You could have guaranteed in that moment that one of your bones had broken, just by feeling the amount of discomfort that blow brought to you. You let out a wheeze for breath, eyes clenched tight and your teeth bared. The person above you was crushing into your chest, making it more difficult to breathe again. 

Whoever it was --whoever it was who sent you to the ground for no apparent reason--, you were somewhat surprised to hear them take in a quick breath. Your eyes fluttered open to the sound of their voice. 

“You’re a girl?!”

The tightness in your chest caused your words to come out in choked gasps, pushing the stranger off of you with all of the strength you could muster. “Why… I suppose so…” A hand wound around yours, feeling yourself being slowly elevated off the ground. Your vision was still clouded and your mind was in the skies, but the voice you heard indeed sounded remorseful. They even took the liberty to hand you your hat back. 

“Why… I don’t…” The voice sounded masculine, and the stuttering of his speech indicated hesitation. Or confusion. Maybe both.

“May I ask…” You panted out, wiping the sweat off of your forehead with a sleeve. “Why did you ram your head into me? I was trying to get _away_ from the scene, lad…”

“I watched you speaking with those two men back there, in the coffeehouse.” He explained, pointing back towards the direction you both came from. “They are renowned Templars, miss. When I overheard you speaking so kindly with the older one, I assumed you were his ally.”

“I didn’t know he was a Templar to begin with. I’m not even from here!”

“Then why did you say you were?”

“Have you heard of lying, mate?”

A pause. “Well, you do have a good point there…” He conceded, holding out a hand for you to take. He shook off the whole situation as if it were the rubbish on his shoes, giving you nothing but smiles afterwards. “My name is Jacob. Jacob Frye.” 

You sent him a skeptical look, eyeing his hand before returning to meet with his gaze. Slowly, your hand joined with his. His firm hold was appalling, and it made you even more suspicious of the boy. He looked to be about the same age as you. “(Y/N) (L/N)... pleasure.”

“Because of your sound knowledge on the Templars, can I rightfully guess what I think you are?”

“To give you a hint, it starts with an A,” You deadpanned, hearing him laugh as you brushed out your wrinkled clothing. You didn’t know why you bothered; the rags were in ruins, anyways. 

“And you’re in Crawley because your Father needs to borrow a book from my Father.” Your confused expression amused him, watching as your eyes narrowed and your eyebrows furrowed closer together. “My Father would speak about your family occasionally, (Y/N). I know a bit of information about your Father, and I knew he had a daughter.” Jacob let out a low whistle, shaking his head in disbelief as he crossed his arms. “I wonder what he’ll say once he found out I tackled his daughter to the ground.”

“I advise you not to tell him. For both of our sakes.” You rubbed the dust off of your palms, feeling at the scratched skin as you traced your fingers over the area. Jacob watched you curiously. “He’ll kill you for tackling me, and then he’ll kill me for not defending myself properly. I think it would be wiser to keep this incident to ourselves.”

Jacob grinned. “Like a secret? A secret to keep between ourselves?”

“A secret to never reach the ears of anyone else’s, except our own.”

 

-x-

 

“Your Father owns this shop.”

“Mh-hm.”

“I searched for this bookstore endlessly. Why couldn’t I find it?”

A charmed grin appeared on his face, staring at you in awe as you palmed the small piece of paper. “You weren’t looking in the right place.”

You felt like a new breed of idiot as he led you into a secluded alleyway, a labyrinth filled with crooked streets and a mysterious allure. If Jacob didn’t have his hand around yours, you would have face-palmed. An Assassin can’t have his area known publicly by all, especially not by the Templars. They can know the name of the shop, like the gentlemen back at the coffeehouse, but never the whereabouts.

Your Father would be ashamed.

Jacob was beaming with excitement as he finally tugged you in front of his Father’s shop. “My Father will be delighted to meet you, I am sure of it.” He mused, taking you by the shoulders and pushing you inside the small shop. You finally felt yourself breathe out as Jacob called out for his Father. “I finally met Sir (L/N)’s daughter!”

“Did you really?” The gruff-sounding man appeared from around a corner, his hands carrying a pile of books. The serious look on his face softened once his eyes landed on you. “By God, you really are the spitting image of your Father.”

A moment of silence filled the space around the three of you, as you realized exactly _who_ you were speaking with. “I-I never heard him mention you before, Sir Frye,” You swallowed thickly, wondering if your comment would anger him in some way. Instead of getting angry, he set the books down on a nearby countertop and swatted your remark away with a wave of a hand.

“You were too young to know about me, anyways.” Sir Frye replied monotonously, beginning to order his books from largest-to-smallest. Jacob snorted, and you elbowed him in the abdomen. He doubled-over, ducking behind you as he groaned to himself. To your luck, Sir Frye didn’t notice the small action. “I find it curious that your Father sent you instead of coming himself. He usually does that, if you didn’t know.”

You shrugged, with eyes cast to the floor. “I cannot explain my Father’s actions. The man is as peculiar as can be.” Motioning down to your attire, Sir Frye gave you a knowing look. “He even dressed me as a beggar boy. It worked, for the most part.”

“Did anyone recognize you coming here?”

“No, sir.” You affirmed. “However, I did speak with a pair of Templars while trying to find your shop. They seemed like _kind_ gentlemen at first.” You rolled your eyes. Thinking back on the situation, you grimaced at yourself for being so trusting of a friendly-looking man. Never again.

“And what happened?”

“I threw a freshly brewed cup of coffee in their eyes and got myself out of there.” You responded, smiling as you watched Sir Frye holding back his laughter. Noticing your stare, he cleared his throat, and straightened out his posture. From your peripheral, you could see Jacob watching the exchange between his Father and yourself with absolute satisfaction. He hid his expression under an opened book, but you could still see the eagerness in his eyes.

“ _Exactly_ how your Father would handle the situation.” He sighed, taking his organized pile of books and heading over to a packed bookshelf. “So he needs a book, does he?” 

“Father, where is Evie? I’m sure she would love to meet the only other female Assassin her age-”

“Evie is studying. Like _you_ should have been doing,” Sir Frye rebuked distastefully, picking out a certain book from his shelf and flipping through its pages. Jacob scoffed.

“If I had done that, I would have never met (Y/N)! And if I never met (Y/N), then she wouldn’t have found your shop. And if she never found your shop-”

“Enough, Jacob.”

You stayed silent, eyeing the two discreetly from under your brows. They reminded you of the way you and your Father would act, at times. You coughed into your fist to try and get some sounds into the still, awkward airs.. Sir Frye turned to you, handing you the largest book you had ever laid your eyes on. He was able to hold it with one hand, but once he gave it to you, the thing had you stumbling a few steps. 

“I hope to see your Father again soon. Perhaps you can accompany him then.”

You sent him a strained smile, doing your best to carry the book in your arms while it was bringing you down with it. You bowed your head in acknowledgement, heaving the book out the door. “It was nice meeting you, Sir Frye!”

Although you didn’t see it, Jacob was noiselessly pleading with his Father to let him escort you back to the train station. He clasped his hands together, pouted, and mouthed ‘Please!’ multiple times until his Father eventually gave in. With a reluctant nod from Sir Frye, Jacob ran out of the room and caught up with your stride easily. His Father held the ridge of his nose between his fingers, deeming his son’s sudden infatuation with you as some mere ‘puppy love.’

Jacob coaxed you into letting him carry the book for you, watching as you struggled to move with its weight. You didn’t want to at first, but the boy certainly had a way at persuading you into doing what he asked. He was bound to snatch the book from your grip if you continued to reject him.

Just like his Father, he was able to carry the book effortlessly. He poked fun of the way you weren’t able to carry the massive weight, and his comment received a well-deserved smack to the head. Even though you responded to him in a harsh way, even though you didn’t like to look at him that much, even though you acted so indifferent to his advances… Jacob kept trying. 

It was that same night when you realized that Jacob Frye had become enamored with you. Evident in the way he would laugh at your words. Evident in the way he would give you his undying attention whenever you opened your mouth to speak. Evident in the way he would stare at you with a yearning desire in his eyes; the desire for you to see him in the same light as he sees you.

You would have never expected that the same stranger who sent you thumping into the pavement would become so smitten with you moments later. He seemed to have a pensive look on his face as the two of you finally reached the train station. The horns of moving trains whizzed past the both of you, and as he cast his eyes towards your dirty face --covered in soot, grime and sweat-- he continued to feel nothing but adoration. All for you; the girl who didn’t bat an eye his way. 

“Will you be visiting Crawley again soon?”

As you caught eye of the train you needed to take, you finally gave him a response. “I will. I doubt it will be soon, though.”

He caught your wrist before you walked away from him. “Will you write to me, then?” The look in his eyes was full of anticipation, hoping to God that you would agree. The excitement within him was threatening to burst, as he watched you pull out the crumpled paper that contained the address of his Father’s shop on it. You took a pencil out from one of your pockets, and messily scrawled your address onto the back of the paper. You traced over your letters numerous times to make sure it would be easily read. 

Folding the already-creased paper in half, you stuck it into his shirt pocket. He stood there frozen in his spot, at awe with all of your movements. He sent you a fleeting smile, one you reciprocated, as he handed you the book that you needed to get back to your Father.

And with the action, Jacob made sure to brush his hands over yours for a longer period of time than usual. The small bit of contact was enough to have him blushing like a fool for the rest of the night, thinking of you as you hopped onto the compartment of a train and rode away. One look at your scribbled writing had him sprinting all the way back home.

He couldn’t wait to begin writing you a letter. Being new at the whole procedure, he didn’t know how to start expressing his jumbled-up thoughts into neatly-written words. And to the shock of Evie, who proofread his work beforehand, Jacob had _actually_ been mindful and meticulous with the words he used. This was particularly appalling to Evie, as the romantically poetic words etched diligently onto the parchment before her were words coming from Jacob; reckless, impulsive, foolhardy Jacob Frye.

 _Whoever this girl may be..._ thought Evie, as she skimmed over Jacob’s love-struck words.

_She must really have a hold on Jacob._


	2. 'Girl, You Really Got a Hold on Me...'

#  'Girl, You Really Got a Hold on Me...' 

Each agonizing cry that would escape your lips would hurt Jacob more than it would hurt you.

“Hold still, (Y/N)...” Evie cooed into your ear, running her fingers through your hair. “We have to get that bullet out of your shoulder and we need you to cooperate.”

The whole left side of your body burned as you felt yourself being put down on a cold table. Slurred mumbles exited your mouth, incapable of keeping your eyes open for too long but unable to find the peace of mind to sleep. Your left shoulder was drenched in blood, soaking through the makeshift ‘bandage’ Jacob hastily wrapped around your wound. It was a jacket from one of the Rooks, its bright green ruined by the crimson etched deep within its fibers. 

Your head lolled, wincing with even the slightest of pressure being put on your left arm. Jacob was to your right, speaking with a desperation to his voice. 

“We are going to help her, Jacob! We just… we need the right materials.” That was Henry’s voice, although you weren’t so sure anymore. Each time someone spoke, it felt adrift and far away. And each time someone touched you too harshly, the pain would strike throughout your whole body, feeling yourself convulse and groan out in pain. The raspy breaths you took in were in loud, and the tears forming in your eyes were bound to start falling soon.

Evie carefully removed the blood-stained jacket from around your shoulder, having to give somewhat of a forceful tug to remove it off your wound. The blood was beginning to dry around the area, creating an adhesive exterior. Your eyes only opened for a fraction of a second, and within that time, you watched as Evie’s eyes widened at the sight of such a gruesome gash. 

The dark red hue splotched over your neck and chest, caking most of your torso in its sickly tinge. Your upper body rose and fell deeply, as you tried to focus on your breathing more so than the excruciating pain you were in. The metallic taste of your own blood reached your tastebuds, feeling your stomach almost heave in revulsion. 

“Evie… We need to do something, fast!” Your head moved gradually towards the sound of Jacob’s frantic voice. Trembling digits encompassed your weak right hand, squeezing gently as a sign of compassion. It was in Jacob’s nature to feel guilty for the misfortunes that would come your way. This time, like all the rest, was no different.

It was a mindless scuffle with the Blighters that caused your contemporary situation. The exchange happened swiftly, with your gaze facing the direction of a group of Rooks next to you. They were laughing, exchanging crude jokes with one another, the Blighters being the butt of them. You had made the move to join them, remembering that you were just about to open your mouth to speak. That is, until the sudden ringing in your ears and the intense shooting pain to your shoulder almost knocked you out entirely. You fell onto your back, with the realization of what just happened to you setting in. A wild influx of bullet shots sounded in all directions, as the Rooks immediately sprung to action. Jacob was the first to rush to your side, tending to your bullet-wound as best he could while the brawl around you two ensued. Despite being smack dab in the middle of an avid gun-fight, he never left you.

Feeling his presence nearby was able to soothe you momentarily. But as you heard the clinking of tools and hushed, panic-stricken whispers, you let out a string of frightened groans. 

“Evie, no!” Jacob pleaded, gripping at your hand as if his life depended on it. He sounded as if he was on his wit’s end. You sighed once you felt him lean in, feeling the heat of his voice close to your ear. “My love, you’ll be okay, yeah? I’m here, right here with you.” 

You had never heard Jacob refer to you in that way before. Evie had admitted to you on a lonelier night that Jacob never had the courage to utter such a title for you. He would only do so until he was sure that your reciprocated feelings were as passionate as his was. It was fitting to finally call you what you always had been for him, as your life drained away with each second wasted. 

“I cannot do anything until I clean the wound, brother!” Evie shouted at him, pressing down at your shoulder. When a sudden flaming sensation enveloped your body, you struggled to get away as best you could. You could feel the alcohol seep deep into your wound, and it felt as if you were ablaze. Numerous hands scrambled to hold you down as you fought against the burn. Your legs were thrashing, clamoring the soles of your feet against the smooth surface of the table. As the pain continued to dominate over your senses, you felt your jaw aching as your teeth clenched tightly in response to the acute sting. 

Jacob watched on helplessly, feeling his heart ache to see you so distraught. “Is the damn thing still in there, Evie?!”

A silence, and more poking around at your shoulder. “It’s lodged in there.” With such a news, you were surprised that you didn’t begin to cry then and there. “Jacob, are you sure that we should do this? We should wait for a doctor-”

“No, Evie! She could bleed out during that time!” His rather abrupt interjection stunned her speechless. Instead of fighting with her little brother further, you felt Evie begin to work on getting the bullet out. The hushed murmurs she would let out were attempting to relax you, as her hand gently brushed over the entrance of the bullet. It seemed that Jacob wasn’t the only Frye twin who cared immensely about your wellbeing.

Their voices were the only things you were able to focus on. It helped you, for the most part, but the misery still wasn’t over. Evie still had to clear out the blood from inside your wound. 

If it hadn’t been for Jacob, who was holding down the right side of your body, you would have lurched straight off the table at the feel of your wound being tugged open. A cold instrument was inserted into the bleeding cavity, and by then, the pain was becoming too impossible to bear. Hot tears rushed down the sides of your face, wailing quietly to yourself as you felt someone begin to soak up the endless flow of blood pouring out of your laceration. 

Evie kept a steady hand on your shoulder blade, as she grabbed hold of the bullet with the pliers she used. The sickening sounds of the object being extracted were too close to your ear for comfort, and your face twisted up into a pained grimace. A thumb wiped at your tears, hushes being emitted from above. Jacob couldn’t bare to watch such a grotesque procedure being performed on the only woman he’s ever loved. You felt his forehead rest against yours for a short span of time, whispering sweet reassurances as Evie wrenched the bullet out from your shoulder. You felt light-headed, fully aware of the gaping hole that remained in the bullet’s stead. 

Gasping for breath, you were given a moment of tranquility, feeling the pressure somewhat relieved from your shoulder. The pain, however, never subsided. It was about to get worse for you.

“Evie, what are you-- Wait, what? God no! Anything but that!”

You were confused to why you heard a unanticipated sizzling sound in the airs around you. Jacob’s voice cracked as he addressed his sister. 

“Jacob.” She sounded solemn. It was appalling that she did not exhibit a sign of intimidation towards the situation. “I have to stop the bleeding somehow.”

Finally finding the strength within you to open your eyes, you immediately wished you hadn’t. Above your wound, Evie held a white-hot metal that blistered dangerously in her grasp. You were able to feel its heat when it was not even close to you yet. The waves emitting from the metal dizzied you, slamming your head back onto the table in frustration. It was only instinct for you to try and get away. Your nails began to claw at the wooden surface, desperately needing something stable to hold. Feeling your pulse quicken and your breath drawing in loud, shaky inhales, you braced yourself for one of the most mind-numbing torments that you had received in your life. At the same time, you felt numerous pairs of hands holding down each one of your limbs.

“I am so sorry, (Y/N)...”

The loudest, most agonizing scream you had ever let out was ripped from your lungs instantaneously, feeling the scorching metal meet with your exposed muscle. You thrashed about wildly, _needing_ to get away. The wetness pouring down your cheeks went unnoticed, as the feel of the fiery blaze dominated your entire body. In the end, your tears only intermingled with the sweat and blood coating most of your face and neck.

The smell of your burning flesh reached your nostrils, a charcoal-like odor that you cringed at the scent of. The hands pressing you down against the table struggled as the metal continued to cook your skin. As much as you fought against the people holding on tightly to your limbs, they turned out to be much stronger. You had only wished that they had given you some sort of wedge to bite down on -- you felt yourself about to bite off your own tongue. Each movement you made seemed to drain the energy out of you at a rapid pace, flopping lifelessly against the surface you were on once Evie pulled the heat away from you. 

Your frail state made Evie hesitant to continue on, but your wound was still bleeding. You knew that she did not like to leave work unfinished, and your exhaustion-ridden mind couldn’t bare it anymore.

“Evie, answer me!” ordered Jacob, embracing you even tighter. “Is she going to make it?”

“Hold her down.” She responded, weariness edging the words she spoke. It was better to get the job over with than prolong the inevitable pain. It would be unnecessary to keep stalling, and it would end up hurting you even more.

When the metal hit you for a second time, each one of your limbs was hit with a spasm. Your hands clawed at the air, twisting up horrendously and resulting in a clenching of the fist. The nails of your fingers dug crescent-shaped imprints into your palms, feeling surges of pain travelling to your hands once you dug into your flesh deeply enough to draw blood. Your vision was blurred, unable to see clearly anymore. All you could hear was the frying of your own flesh, accompanied by the distasteful odor that you were sure you would never forget. Nonetheless, you continued to thrash until your limbs felt numb and your body eventually gave out. Jacob watched in horror as your eyes rolled back into your skull, face paling as a result of the ordeal. You collapsed back atop the table, as Evie shakily backed away from your motionless body.

“Evie…”

“Jacob,” she began, slowly placing the cautery as far away from her as possible. “She had to endure an insufferable amount of pain. It was natural for her to faint.”A sigh was released from her mouth, as she rubbed at the side of her face. Henry placed a comforting hand to rest on her shoulder, sending Jacob a look of pity as he sulked over your body. 

“If I lose her, Evie-”

“You won’t, Jacob.” She interrupted, letting out an exasperated exhale as she heard Jacob let out a sniffle. “Perhaps this is your wake-up call, brother. For the past six years, you have loved this girl with a passion that I had never expected from you. I believe it is time for you to say it to her face instead of moping around like a lovelorn teenager whenever she’s gone.”

He had tried. He had tried for so long, but every time he was close to admitting his feelings to you, the cowardice within would prevent him from uttering out the words. Now as he was forced to watch you go through such a hellish torment, knowing that there was a chance of losing you, he realized that there was no more time to waste.

Jacob’s heart yearned for you. It had been that way forever, since the night his eyes met yours for the first time.

 

-x-

 

You couldn’t move, not even if you tried. Half of your body ached, and this discomfort coupled with the pain in your throat, feeling scratchy every time you swallowed. It was pretty evident that you were dehydrated, with the way your head was blistering in pain. The movement of your hand was strained, but you just wanted to feel at your shoulder. As expected, it was heavily bandaged, with applied pressure inducing a wince on your part. It wasn’t in your character to feel as weak as you were, knowing that you would not be allowed to complete anymore missions until your shoulder healed. At the least, the recovery process would give you enough time to sort out your thoughts.

The soft exhale somewhere to your right indicated that you were not alone in the room. And by the sounds that person made, you still knew exactly who it was. “You’re awake.”

Your eyes fluttered close. “No, I’m not.” Annoyed at the raspiness of your voice, you rolled your eyes underneath the barrier your eyelids provided. You raised your functional hand to comb through your knotted hairs. “How long was I asleep for?”

“A day and a half, I presume.” 

You let out an upset exhale. Pressing your head even deeper into the pillow, you wished to fall back asleep. 

“I was afraid that you would fall into shock.”

“Was I acting in such a way?” You croaked out, wetting your dry lips. “I don’t remember much of what happened.”

“Evie pried the bullet out of your shoulder.” You remembered that. “And then she had to cauterize your wound.”

You _definitely_ remembered that part. It all happened rather quickly. The gruelling work must have been for Evie, having to act as the amateur-surgeon in your situation. You let out a humorless laugh, knowing that this whole thing will leave one hell of a scar.“And how is Evie? Apologize on my part, yeah, Jacob?”

“You don’t get it, do you?”

His sudden change of tone took you aback, opening up an eye to take a peek at that younger Frye twin. He sat on a chair beside your bed, slouching and cross-armed, with his gaze fixed upon you. The irritation on his face was noticeable, and you couldn’t help but wonder why. “I almost die, Jacob… and you act like this?”

“Pardon me, darling, but shouldn’t _I_ be asking you that?” retorted Jacob, prompting a furrowing of the brows on your part. His sharp remarks did not end there. “You almost die, and you brush it off as if it were nothing? As if almost bleeding out is something to be considered amusing...”

Your mouth opened to bark out something in retaliation, but Jacob beat you to it. 

“The moment you were sprawled out on that pavement outside, pale in the face and unable to breathe properly, I could have sworn that you were going to die. And (Y/N)... I was scared, to say it simply. I couldn’t even bear to see Evie almost tear your shoulder apart to pry the bullet out. And when she put that burning cautery on you… and you began to…” You froze, pitying the way his voice trailed off and fell short. You knew that Jacob was always fond of you, so this must have been his breaking point. To see you on the brink of death on some hardwood table with his sister’s bloodied hands tending to your wound. You let out a sigh.

Although it pained you dearly, you still put in the effort to tug yourself into a sitting position. Your fists clutched the sheets beneath you, grinding your teeth as your upper body rose gradually. You let out a struggling breath, which prompted Jacob to rise quickly out of his seat.

“What are you doing? You can tear your stitches with that-”

“Fuck my stitches, Jacob.” You groaned out slowly. Repressing the urge to grin, you noticed that your words had stunned him into silence. He stood there, mouth slightly agape and observing your body with the occasional darting of the eyes. You rubbed at your cheeks, still able to feel dry tears as your hand trailed down the side of your face. “A shot of a bullet couldn’t tear me away from you. Hell, not even the aftermath. You need not worry so much, for that is what causes hair loss.”

His fists clenched, watching as you began to double over in laughter. It hurt, of course, but you found the whole situation entertaining. You didn’t understand why Jacob didn’t --he usually laughed at _his_ injuries. Thinking nothing of it, you couldn’t help yourself. 

You were still recovering from your one-sided round of laughter when a rough hand wrapped around your forearm, tightly enough to cut off circulation. Your widened eyes raised to meet his enraged ones.

“You take your own agony as a joke?” He hissed out, holding you in place as you tried to wriggle your arm free. “I have been worried _sick_ about your well being for the past day and a half. Do you wonder if I have gotten any sleep, either? Because I haven’t.”

You scowled, finally tugging your arm free from his bone-crushing grip. “No one asked you to, Jacob. I laugh at the experience as a way to cope. It makes it less traumatizing and easier to remember. Unless-” Your eyes lit up with a notion. Placing a hand over your chest, you sarcastically let out an anguished sigh. “You want me to act as your damsel in distress, hm?”

He rolled his eyes at your gestures. “I would have only expected you to act differently after such an experience.”

“It seems to me, Jacob Frye…” You waited for him to turn back towards you. Once he did, you sent him a soft smile, even if his unamused expression seemed too intimidating. “That my injury hurt you more than it hurt me.”

He shrugged helplessly. “How would it not?”

“Because, correct me if I’m wrong… I was the one who had a bullet tear through their shoulder blade?”

“If only I noticed the brute pulling his pistol, I would been able to act faster. Perhaps I would have taken the bullet as my own-”

“Jacob, do not _say_ that.” You chided, shaking your head. The seriousness of his voice concerned you, and when you opened your eyes to look back at him again, his sincere expression remained unaltered. Your muscles relaxed, wanting to give him a heartfelt response. “I wouldn’t want anything of the sort happening to you. I would torment myself if you ended up hurt because of me.”

The two of you stared at each other for a while longer, unknowing of what to say next. You swallowed thickly, motioning towards the door with a nod of the head. 

“Will Evie be needing you? I wouldn’t want to make you late to anything.”

You twisted your upper body to grab your pillow, desiring to fluff it up a bit more. Planning to sleep for the rest of the day, you might as well make it more comfortable. You contemplated shortly whether to ask someone to bring you some tea. And if you were to be bed-bound for quite some time now, you could be somewhat productive and help Henry with measly tasks. 

“Hey Jacob, would you-”

Why, you hadn’t expected Jacob to switch up on you so _quickly_ like that. As soon as you turned back towards him, hands cupped your face and pulled you into an amorous kiss, dazing you with its abrupt intensity. Your mind was in a whirl once you realized that the man brushing his lips ever-so gently against yours was Jacob Frye. He pulled you in closer, his hand snaking its way to the small of your back. 

All you could hear in that moment was the buzzing of your own heartbeat in your ears. His lips moved slowly against yours, wanting to cherish each second that passed in its whole entirety. You melted into his embrace, finding his intermingled scent of peppermint and musk drawing you closer into him. It wasn’t long before you used his shoulders to pull yourself up onto your knees, never once breaking contact with his mouth. The cheeky bastard was audacious enough to trail the tip of his tongue across your bottom lip, smiling as you softly moaned to the sensation. You felt the need to pull away once you realized just how _heated_ the two of you were becoming in a matter of seconds. 

Your forehead rested against his, breathing in unison as you felt Jacob’s hand caressing the side of your face. His voice was low, swallowing thickly as your eyes met with his. A surge of heat rose to your cheeks, wondering if Jacob’s heart was beating as fast as yours. You let out a timid laugh, watching in anticipation as he took your hands within his. “Did that scare you?”

“It startled me, yes.” You nodded, reciprocating his smile. “Yet, the fear still managed to be intoxicating, Jacob.”

“Is that so?” He drawled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. His hand reached up again, sliding across your jawline to reach the back of your neck, pulling you in for another kiss. Becoming more accustomed to the intensity of Jacob’s mouth against yours, you did your best to match his speed and vigor that left you breathless. 

Your hand rested on the crook of his neck, moving higher to thread your digits into his dark hair. He softly moaned out into your mouth, as his hands travelled down to your hips and gave a gentle squeeze. 

He knew that it was selfish, but Jacob wanted to keep you all to himself. He deemed it fitting, having known you since the two of you were adolescents and admiring you ever since. You were invaluable in his eyes, with your unmatched skill when it came to fighting and your brilliant intelligence and wit that had him buckling at the knees. He was bound to fulfill your every whim if you just agreed to be by his side.

You could have sworn to have been in some euphoric state of mind in that moment, one where only you and Jacob existed. If the door to your bedroom did not swing open and crash against the wall, he would have definitely begun undressing the both of you right then and there. The two of you separated immediately, glancing over to the sight of Evie standing at the doorway, a gleaming smile across her face that signified her amusement. 

“I… was only coming to ask if you needed something, (Y/N).” She began, eyes darting between the two of you. “But I can see you're well-acquainted already. My being here is unnecessary.”

“Come off it, Evie.” Jacob scoffed, straightening out his clothing as he spoke. “Do not remind me of all the times I have walked in on you and Greenie-”

You lied back onto your pillow, shaking your head at Jacob’s immaturity. “Enough, Jacob. There’s no need to be bringing Evie’s business into this.” Once he gave you a skeptical look, you cocked a brow at him. “Quit teasing your sister.”

He huffed out an irritated breath, grumbling his words to the floor. Evie disregarded her brother, moving over to sit at the foot of your bed. “How is your shoulder?”

“Fine. How is your sanity?” To quip with Evie about the misfortunates that came your way was relieving enough. Leaning back against your fluffed pillow, you watched her gingerly set a hand over your blankets. “After an experience like that, I’d be changed for the worst.”

Evie chuckled, smiling up at you. “I am proud to say my sanity is untouched. Of course, there were some images I found hard to rid my mind of.”

“Likewise, the feelings I felt during that procedure will be difficult to forget. It’s a situation we will be able to laugh about soon enough.” She agreed with your words, nodding by the end of your sentence. “It doesn’t hurt much, by the way. It won’t be long until I am back on the streets, brawling and throwing daggers.”

“Wow.” Jacob nodded, eyeing the two of you as if you and Evie had just betrayed him bitterly. “Evie walks in and you begin flirting with her instead? Unbelievable.” The two of you stifled laughter, looking to Jacob with wide grins. 

“Do you blame me?” You rasped out, gesturing towards Evie with a nod of the head. “She _always_ has been the more attractive one of the two.” The look on Jacob’s face was priceless. You resisted the urge to double over in laughter, watching as Evie sent you a playful wink to tease Jacob further. He shot her a dirty look. “I’m kidding, dear. You and Evie are both beautiful, don’t worry.”

“I believe we should be leaving you to rest further.” Evie said as she stood up from the bed. She took Jacob by the arm and began tugging him towards the exit. “I’ll be bringing you a glass of water, later on. Come along, Jacob.” A quick wave of the hand was the only thing he had time to send you, before being heaved out of the room entirely. You let out a sigh once your door shut, feeling your back beginning to ache due to the position you were in.

Once your head was against the pillow, you snuggled into the blanket and let out a content breath of air. Your smile never faltered, feeling your lips with the tips of your fingers. Jacob’s passion for you was beginning to become more evident as the days went on. It wouldn’t be long now, before the two of you finally developed something that was more than fleeting gazes and flirtatious whispers. 

Falling asleep was a difficult task, with your mind continuing to linger back to the memory of Jacob’s mouth against yours, and feeling how his fumbling fingers had desperately ached to get your clothes off. That is, before Evie walked in. You couldn’t help but wonder what Jacob Frye was bound to do with you again, in a vacant room with more than enough time to spare.

For one thing, you were sure that he would lock the door next time.

 

-x-

 

“Are you awake? (Y/N)?” A poke at your cheek. “Come on, (Y/N), I need to speak with you.”

“Evie…” You whined, gently swatting away her hand. “Why do I already know the topic of this impending conversation?”

“Because it’s a topic that has been inevitable for quite some time now.” Her blunt response annoyed you, hearing her pull up a chair beside your bed and sitting down on it. She crossed her legs before speaking again. “Jacob finally did it?”

“You walked in, didn’t you? I thought you saw the bulk of it.” The only reason to why your head raised was to briefly look towards the door. It stayed up, allowing your gaze to rest upon Evie’s pleased expression. “Where is he now?”

“Out at a brawl of some sort, I reckon. You should have seen him, swooning over the mention of your name. It’s worse than when we were teenagers.”

“Really? How so?”

“For one thing, he was more subtle with his emotions back then. This was mainly because of our Father… he would not be pleased at the idea of his son courting the daughter of his closest friend.” Evie explained, shrugging at her shoulders. “Besides, my Father believed that an Assassin’s work is his priority. Romantic interests can wait. Now, Jacob can be as reckless and impetuous as he wants without the fear of being reprimanded. But with you, I believe that he would be willing to change.”

“With me?” 

Evie hummed, as your face twisted up with uncertainty.

“I cannot straighten a stick that’s been crooked for years, Evie. Unless, I had a stupendous amount of force on my side.”

“I have an idea on what that force can be.” She thought aloud, reaching into the inside of her jacket to pull out a folded letter. Ignoring your dubious glance, she handed it over to you. The paper looked untouched, feeling the thin parchment in between your fingertips. “That letter is six years old.”

Your eyes widened. “Why would you hoard a letter, Evie?”

“Because I’ve been wanting to show it to you all this time. I was just waiting for the correct moment.”

You opened the letter as she spoke, skimming over the first few words you saw. One look at the writing, and you knew that it was Jacob’s. “1862? So, when we were 15?”

“Jacob found it hard to write love letters, so he would sometimes ask for my help when doing so. The letter in your hands now is the one he spent the whole night writing and he deemed it too ‘horrible’ to send. Of course, I wanted to have a copy of the words for myself, for it was a momentous occasion to see Jacob being so vulnerable and endearing with his words. Even if he was quite embarrassed with his work, I still found it… quite adorable, to say the least.”

You couldn’t seem to hear her speaking anymore, being so enthralled by the words of the then-fifteen-year-old boy, who held so much joy in his eyes whenever he spoke to you. To read his words now, realizing that his feelings have never subsided even after all this time, made your heart soar into the skies. You felt yourself blushing as you read his words.

_‘Dear (Y/N) (L/N),_

_I apologize to be writing to you on such short notice, but our encounter has impacted me more than what I dare to say aloud. If only I had known you to be a lady, I would have never treated you with such brute force. Your Father will have my head for that, I am sure._

_I could not help but admire your ambition and persistence, even in the face of adversity. Even as I was under the illusion of you being a poor peasant boy off the streets, face blackened by muck and grime, I still managed to find your habitual ways incredibly intriguing. Your agility is impeccable, if I may say so, and your quick thinking saved you from the wrath of that gib-face. I can say it now; if he would have gotten you, I perhaps would have assisted you in some way. You peaked my interest that much, Miss (Y/N)._

_As for my Father… he seemed to have a level of respect for you. Not only for you, but for your ancestry. He has kept a record of the London Assassins and your family name has shown up quite a few times over the last generations. My Father was right regarding your similar appearance to Sir (L/N). However, if it were from my perspective, I would have commented on just how strikingly similar you look compared to your Mother, may she rest in Peace. The both of you have the most charming smiles, and after seeing a photo of your Mother in my Father’s records, I can pinpoint exactly where your loveliness originated from._

_If I continue to write on about how much your beauty has impacted me from our one meeting, I am sure I will be able to fill up the rest of this page and its backside. To save time for the both of us, I will write out my thoughts as concise as I can be._

_Miss (Y/N), you by far have to be one of the most precious beings I have ever laid my eyes upon. I cannot accurately describe the feelings that arise whenever I took a glance your way, but I can assure you that they were glimpses filled with both respect and endearment. My words to you are sincere, and I wish to form something with you that grows past the mere title of acquaintanceship. When I am older, God knows that my feelings for you will still be as vehement and profound as they are now, as I write this page for your lovely eyes to read._

_I would certainly enjoy seeing you once more, and perhaps your next visit can be even longer than your last. Each aspect of your being here, in the sleepy town of Crawley, has brought a newfound joy to my life that is indefinitely gratifying. It makes me anticipate the next time I will see you jump off the compartment of the inbound train, with the same breathtaking grin that stole my heart the minute it appeared on your face._

_Our Fathers always have stated that to become a true Assassin, we must put our feelings aside to truly focus on our tasks at hand. Although I have understood and lived by the tenet for most of my life, my meeting with you was quick to change my thoughts._

_I believe that this is yet another secret that we must keep amongst ourselves, a secret to never reach the ears of anyone else’s, except our own._

_With utmost respect and passion,_

_Jacob Frye.’_

Your hands were trembling as you lowered the letter away… away from your gaze. The look back over to Evie was slow, and she had already put her chair back where it was and was waiting for you to finish reading. The small smile on her face was one you recognized well. 

“Why do you show me this, Evie? After all of this time, why now?”

“If you would have died after that bullet entered your shoulder blade, I can assure you that Jacob would have joined you shortly afterwards. I’m only trying to show you that Jacob has always felt fond of you, no matter how hard he’s tried to conceal it from you once we entered adulthood, whether it be with denial or exchanging remarks with some other woman. It was his futile attempt at repressing his infatuation with you, even though I was able to see through him like glass.” Evie seemed to raise her chin higher, and her expression felt more sincere. More gentle. “And I know you feel the same way for my brother.”

You chose to remain silent for a moment, brushing over the smoothness of the paper with your thumb. Pressing your lips into a thin line, you could only nod in agreement. “You’re right, Evie.”

“Of course I am. I’ve observed you two for six years now. Just…” She reached for the paper in your hands, and you handed it over with reluctance. In all honesty, you would have wanted to keep it awhile longer. “Don’t tell Jacob that I showed you this letter. Alright? He would never let me hear the end of it.”

You placed a hand over your mouth, indicating your silence. Evie laid a comforting hand atop your shoulder, rubbing circles into your skin. 

“I’ve always known you were the perfect match for my brother.” It felt odd to hear her utter such words, her voice as light as a spring breeze. You felt your cheeks warm up, thinking and re-thinking about what she just said. “It was about time you realized it, too.”

Evie had mentioned that she was able to read through Jacob’s actions as if he were a piece of glass. And in that moment of tranquility between the two of you, the vulnerability you felt knowing that you were just as transparent as Jacob under Evie’s cutting gaze was staggering. 

She had been reading the both of you like open books the entire time. Although the initial reaction to this knowledge was horror, you were still able to find a bit of comfort knowing that Evie was as understanding as can be. 

You knew you would have to thank her for this one day, for not even your Father could bestow an astonishing revelation upon you as quick as Evie Frye could. The man could not beat her keen observations and clever way of thinking, even if he had raised you up until his death. Just as Ethan Frye could not tame his son’s free-spirited mind, the morals your Father instilled in you were beginning to fall loose. You sighed.

_Rest in Peace, Father. You will be sorely missed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you all enjoy! any comments/criticism is deeply appreciated. <3


	3. Me and Your Mama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this... is where the rated M part of the story comes into play.

#  Me and Your Mama 

The realization that Crawford Starrick was dead, at long last, took a bit of time to dawn upon you. It seemed too good to be true, when the bastard seemed nearly invincible while you, Jacob, Evie, and Henry fought him underneath Buckingham Palace. The powers the Shroud gifted him were greater-than-man, and with each punch, kick, and pistol-shot you would send his way, it only seemed to injure you more so than it did to him. He would toss you aside like rag-doll, plummeting you to the floor with a mere shove of the chest. It was chilling, the way he glowed with the Shroud in his possession. Nevertheless the jeers he uttered that were directed towards you only fueled your motivation to end the man, once and for all. 

The brawl was gruelling, with Starrick threatening to break each one of your fingers if you continued to pester him. He was almost successful, gripping at the ring finger of your left hand and anticipating the second that he would suddenly twist his hand too far to the right, taking your finger with it. Jacob managed to ram into Starrick, propelling him far away from you. The crack of your knuckle due to his abrupt tug was harmless, although you weren’t able to flex the digit for the rest of the fight.

Watching as the light vanished from Starrick’s eyes was a breath of fresh air. Templar control of London died with the man, even if he had fought, scratched, and murdered his way to maintain his command over the city. With the Assassins in possession of the Shroud of Eden, society will begin to heal itself over time, as it should be. It seemed evident to you that your job in London had been accomplished with the death of Starrick and the Templars. You had contemplated to travel to the United States, in order to aid the American Brotherhood. Letters you had received from the Assassins abroad evoked concern in your being, hoping that the newly appointed President of the United States would not fall into the clutches of the Templars. 

Yet, there was a strong force that resided in London that compelled you to stay, despite your conscience repeatedly telling you that traveling to the States was the better choice to do. That particular force had a first and last name.

All of your life, you knew that the priorities of the Assassins were supposed to be your priorities as well. Even with the principle etched into your mind like a carving on stone, Jacob Frye still managed to be of greater importance to you than all of the issues in the world. 

Just as you were about to write the letter, responding to the American Brotherhood that you would be honored to assist them in anyway you can, you heard numerous knocks at the door of your lodging. The pencil you held couldn’t even meet with the parchment before the furious thumps against the door began to irritate the wits out of you. You scowled aloud, quickly rising from your seat to address the distressed visitor. It was well into the night and you had already dressed yourself for bed. Your corset was dumped somewhere on the floor after the exhausting night, and all you had left was your chemise that reached down to your calves, and the nightgown that trailed at your heels. All you wished was for a bit of rest, but a certain feeling in the pit of your stomach was telling you that you weren’t going to get any that night. It wasn’t long before you understood why.

“Jacob-” He shoved his way into your room, much to your discontent. “Why are you here? In the middle of the night?”

The words you said didn’t seem to reach him. He stormed all the way to your writing desk, rummaging through your things without speaking a word. The clutters and clashes of utensils falling to the floor were alarming, so you shut the door quickly and made your way over to Jacob.

“What do you think you are doing? That’s my stuff!” You reached your hand in to try and halt his movements, but he was already holding up a particular parchment in his clenched grasp. He was fuming.

“The United States, (Y/N)? Was that where you were planning on running to?” 

“Jacob, you know that it is only for business-”

An abrupt gasp cut off your sentence, watching as he balled up the paper in his hand and tossed it somewhere to the floor. Your eyes widened as you looked back up to him, with his clenched jaw and squinted gaze. “Business? The Americans are _fine_ at this point in time. Why do you wish to stick your nose into affairs that aren’t yours?”

You frowned. “The Templars have a good chance at manipulating President Grant into following their crooked ways. Although the United States is wounded now, Jacob, they have the potential to be our strongest ally in the years to come. We cannot stand and wait for the Templars to have total control of them now.”

“We are not sure of that, (Y/N). Our brothers will be strong enough to resist them when the time is needed. There is no need for you to be travelling, understand me!”

You elbowed him out of your way, ordering the papers he managed to muck up in such a short period of time. Shaking your head, you brushed shoulders with him to pick up the wrinkled ball of paper he threw aside moments ago. “Sometimes, you are the worst pain of the arse I seem to have kept around me.”

It was a shame to not have seen his reaction, with your back turned to him. In spite of that, you knew the comment had the capacity to wound him. You didn’t care much to what Jacob thought of your blunt statements regarding him and his actions, wanting them to be powerful enough to prove a point to the stubborn man. Alas, the words enter one ear and fall straight out of the other. 

He took you by the wrist, spinning you to face him entirely. With a brisk move of the hand, he sent all of the papers you held spiraling to the floor. If your mouth wasn’t dry and your mind wasn’t blank for words, you would have cursed Jacob then and there without a hint of remorse. Even if you tried to step away from the seething man before you, the tight grip he held around your arm would have prevented you from moving far. 

“T-There was no need for that, Jacob.” Your stammered words did nothing more than humiliate you further. 

“Stop worrying about responsibilities.” He ordered, inching his way closer to your bemused figure. The occasional darting of his eager gaze down to your lips revealed his intentions quickly. Evie was certainly correct; Jacob was just like a piece of looking glass. “How about you focus on things that are _actually_ important? Like me, for instance.”

You huffed out your indignation. “You flatter yourself, Jacob.”

The prompt grip he placed upon your waist had you shuddering in seconds. He never took his eyes off you as he worked his way closer to you, pressing his chest against yours in an attempt to subdue you. Your quivering hands atop his shoulders was the clear indicator for him that he had succeeded in doing so. It impelled him to lean in even closer until his bottom lip rested on your earlobe, gingerly pressing kisses against the area. You couldn’t help but tense up, knowing damn well what happens to you whenever someone edges too close to your ear. 

“Then, I will be taking _imperative_ actions to ensure that you stay.” He purred his words out gradually, charmed by the sporadic breaths that exited from your mouth afterwards. 

His lips continued to adorn your jawline with freshly-placed kisses, taking the time to draw each one of them out until he felt you squirm under his touch. He wanted to see how much of this delightful agony you were willing to endure. “You seem to be an expert at this, Jacob Frye.” You whimpered out, swallowing down the lump that formed in your throat the best you could. It was unexpected, to feel him faintly chuckle against the skin of your neck.

“Really?” It sounded as if he took your comment as a challenge. He took your wrist in his hold, guiding it up to rest placidly on his chest. Albeit the numerous layers of clothing that lay between your palm and his skin, you could still feel the thundering pace of his heart underneath your fingertips. It only seemed to quicken even more so whenever his eyes met with yours. With that, he grinned. “I may be an expert at countless things, love… but with you, I tend to fall apart at the seams.”

Within seconds did your face flush with heat, unable to meet his gaze while you were ablaze in embarrassment. A sort of comfort followed, as Jacob quietly resumed in decorating your neck with kisses and mild bite marks. Your eyes shut on instinct, feeling your own heart fluttering within the cages of your chest. “You seem to be quite fond of seeing me falling apart at the seams.”

His hand rested on the surface on your neck, unable to keep himself from moaning out the rest of his words. “ _God_ , do I love the sight…” 

He held you steady as he pulled you in for a kiss, one that tugged at your heartstrings in response to his desperation and desire to please you. Jacob moved passionately against your mouth, the enthralling sensation coaxing you into letting yourself melt into his embrace. The tingling feeling brewing up within the pits of your stomach felt lovely, and Jacob’s demeanor towards you was even lovelier. Who were you to reject the caresses he placed against your skin, the same ones that left you gasping and spluttering against his mouth and him to embrace you further.

You felt Jacob’s fumbling hands anxiously toying with the hems of your nightgown, letting out a breathless laugh as he felt you smile against his mouth. Although you looked to be happy, as Jacob presumed you to be, each movement you made still held a pinch of fear disguised under quivering exhales and soft encouragements for Jacob to continue. No man had ever touched you in the way Jacob was now. To be frank, you did not know what to expect of it all, having never experienced any of it for yourself. There were times before where you would accidentally stumble upon an erotica, flicking through the pages and feeling yourself begin to sweat as you read the vulgar words on each page. Those were the types of books to give you wide-eyed, open-mouth expressions, all while slamming them shut and hiding them behind your back as an older adult passed you by. All of your prior knowledge to the act was handed to you by those brief glimpses at the steamy book pages. 

To feel it in person, however, is an entirely different occurrence. Every kiss pressed onto your heated skin electrified you, and every trail of the tongue Jacob left behind on your neck shoved you into a daze. It wasn’t long before the two of you inched your way closer to the bed, with Jacob being the one to continuously force you backwards until you felt the behinds of your legs bump into the wooden bedframe. Only then, did the nightgown fall from your shoulders and get tossed aside like an obstruction in the way. 

Your chemise failed to cover your shoulders, unable to hide the ugly scar left behind by the bullet that almost killed you. Jacob was never one to judge, buzzing with lust as he pressed fleeting kisses along the scar permanently etched into your skin. He hummed softly, pulling away to observe the mark and grazing over it with a thumb. “Does it still hurt?”

“At times,” You murmured, shrugging his hand away. “I don’t like the sight of it.”

“It’s a sign of your might.” uttered Jacob, with a voice tinged with desire. His eyes flickered upwards. “An addition to your ever-growing beauty.”

“Christ, Jacob.” You mouthed, chin raised towards the ceiling as he began to smother your collarbone and the crook of your neck with wet kisses. He only ceased his movements to gift you a red mark on your skin, a collection that began to compile as Jacob feverishly continued to tug at your skin with his lips. He adored your small sounds of suppressed moans, silently swearing that he would coax you out of your shell until your free spirit ran wild. God knows, the one thing that would absolutely _ruin_ him is to hear his name fall from your quivering lips, uttered out in strangled gasps as he buried himself deep inside of you.

With a hand on the small of your back, he guided the two of you on top of the sheets of your bed. His lips are on yours again, tender and delicate. The both of you could have stayed in that position forever and you would never feel the urge to complain. You felt a wandering hand reach down to the hems of your chemise, tugging them farther up your legs. The gasp you let out excited Jacob, using your shock to snake his tongue into your mouth. The action left you panting for breath, all while craving more of his unrelenting affections. Digging your nails into his shoulders, you pulled at him until his chest neared yours, hearts skipping beats in unison.

Jacob reluctantly split away from your embrace only to begin pawing away at the jacket that helped in retaining the heat he emitted. Carelessly flinging it to the side, he worked on getting the rest of his clothing off, unceremoniously hurling each one of his garments towards the floor in a lust-filled haze. His determined digits popped open each one of the work shirt’s buttons, revealing more of his muscular torso as his busy hands neared the bottom of his shirt. And with the position the two of you were in, Jacob resting upon his knees with your legs trapped between them, the only thing you could really do is watch with twinkling eyes of anticipation. He looked ravishing under the moonlight beams, enhancing each one of his attractive features until they looked almost ethereal to touch. The same could be said for you, with your flushed cheeks and the sheen of sweat that had accumulated along the sides of forehead. Coupled with the masterpiece Jacob left behind on your neck, he couldn’t stifle his smile whilst observing his handiwork. He bent down to kiss your stomach and traveled lower, hitching up your chemise until it reached your upper thigh.

“Do you trust me?” he rasped, kissing at your bent knees as he awaited your response. You felt your throat go dry, realizing how close Jacob was to the dripping heat between your legs. He seemed to be glowing, and the captivating glint in his eyes only made him shine brighter. Your head was nodding on instinct, half-lidded eyes watching as his mouth travelled up your inner thigh. His stubble grazed along the smoothness of your skin, the friction exhilarating enough to muddle your thoughts in seconds. 

His nails skimmed over your hips, feeling yourself inhale sharply as he took hold of the waistband of your drawers and began tugging them down. Up past your thighs, knees, and over your shins where Jacob brushed his lips against the areas he revealed. The soft thud of a garment hitting the floor indicated that the fabric was completely off of you, and only then did you feel strong arms hooking around your thighs and pulling you closer to the bed’s border. You weren’t able to react in a coherent matter, feeling a fire within you threatening to set your very being ablaze if Jacob didn’t stop teasing you with his tongue. A hot breath hit the most sensitive area of your body, having to clamp a hand over your mouth to prevent an obscene moan from escaping. Yet, you still felt it build at the back of your throat and it would almost be a sin not to let the melodic sigh reach his ears. 

And so your head hit the pillow and you let out the restrained groans that bubbled up within your chest, once you felt Jacob’s tongue lapping euphorically at your folds. He wasn’t able to contain his sounds of pleasure as well as you did, the occasional hums only adding on to the breathtaking feel coursing through your lower body. Your back arched up off the bed, with a hand threading through his dark hair. He only continued at his pace with his hands surely leaving marks on your inner thighs, with the way he held onto them. Even as it stung your muscles, you forced your legs to be even wider than they were, feet resting on their tips against the fabric below you. 

Your legs were trembling before you knew it, heaving in heavy breaths and letting them out in stammered patterns. Jacob’s mouth was relentless, with each movement made aimed to achieve a greater goal; to satisfy you. His eyes flickered upwards to watch you, writhing with pleasure under his touch, and he found it difficult not to begin stroking himself at the sight. The uncomfortable tightness in his pants worsened as time went on, hearing his name being worshipped to the heavens. To him, you tasted better than a dead man’s last meal.

Tears of pleasure welled up in your eyes, your body bursting in emotion in more ways than one. You wouldn’t have known what you would have done, if Jacob pulled away right then and there to leave you as an over-sensitized, panting mess atop your very own covers. He shaped himself to become a diamond in your eyes when he did none the sort, rather he was introducing a pressure between your legs that you hadn’t known was possible to feel. You begged for him to continue, beginning to claw at the bedsheets around you. Whenever you found the courage to open your eyes and gaze down upon him, you felt mortified with the position you were in. Yet, you would torment yourself if you forced Jacob to stop now when the two of you were enjoying this moment so damn much. 

His fingers, his tongue, and those buzzing moans of his were driving you to the brink of your tolerance. Your hands rose to cover your reddened face, goosebumps running up and down your spine, to the tips of your fingers and to the ends of your toes. Jacob had been enjoying your sounds and your movements, but he was striving for more. The movements of his tongue were now at a feverish haste and his fingers were covered in a wet sheen of your cum. With each action Jacob bestowed upon you, the tightness pooling in your lower body seemed to intensify. 

Clenching your eyes, you suddenly felt as if you were bursting. The shockwaves of ecstasy taking over your being compelled you to gasp up Jacob’s name, as your head buried into the pillow below you. He watched from under his brows, a dark glint in his eyes as he gradually pulled away. He didn’t have the heart to remove his fingers just yet; that would ruin your fun. On his knees, he silently observed in a lustful awe as you convulsed on the bed with only his name on your lips. The way your voice hitched in your throat, with thighs shuddering to a close, was Jacob’s magnum opus. His free hand wiped at his chin, waiting for your orgasm to subside.

Only then did Jacob stop, when the pulsing around his fingers relaxed and the sounds of your panting filled the still room with its beautiful vulnerability. He gave you one last kiss to your knee, before pulling out his digits and raising them to his mouth to taste. Your lips parted at such an erotic sight. 

You felt one of his hands tugging at your chemise, but to no avail. “Get this bloody thing off of you. I’m sure you look ravishing without it.”

Your breath was still in hitches as you lifted yourself up to pull the loosened fabric over your head. Jacob smiled as you did so, leaning down to ease his work boots off of his feet. As he unfastened the buckles of his pants, his gaze traveled all over your body, committing every dip and curvature to memory. He ripped the last pieces of clothing off of himself before snaking his way in between your thighs. Panic welled deep within your chest to know that _this_ was finally happening, and that Jacob had probably been anticipating it longer than you had. His dark-eyed vehemence made it blatantly clear for you, even more so with the hesitant brushes of his palms against the skin of your waist. 

He positioned himself over you, nuzzling your neck in a warm-hearted display of affection. Your fingers threaded in and out of his hair, as the words that would languidly fall from his lips dissolved every one of your insecurities. 

He loved you; that part was apparent. But, it was time for him to act out on those feelings instead of leaving his emotions to brew within the bounds of his own heart. Only God knows how long he had been looking forward to this.

Your grip on his shoulders tightened instinctively, once you felt him reach down and position himself just before your soaking entrance. The two of you gazed down to where your hips met, the warmth of him dizzying as he pressed himself closer to your wetness. You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry or to stop him altogether; you didn’t want to succumb to cowardice but it was quite difficult not to when you knew this wouldn’t feel pleasant. 

“This will hurt,” he whispered, eyes locking with yours. “...Let me know if it feels unpleasant, alright?” You nodded, swallowing thickly as you felt him stroking himself against your folds. Jacob did his best to be cautious, gradually pushing himself inside of you until he noticed your eyes clenching in obvious discomfort. He stopped, caressing your thigh as he did so. “Too much?”

You did your best to feign a smile, as strained as it may have been. You shook your head, despite the look of concern plastered on his face. Hesitantly taking your word, he resumed in pushing himself inside of you, intertwining his fingers with yours as he went. He moved at an unhurried pace until you felt him entirely within you, gasping out at the newfound sensation. Burying his face into the crook of your neck, you could still hear him letting out strangled moans to the feel of you around him. His face twitched, a mix of pain and delight, as he pulled himself back out. He found it incredibly frustrating to be moving so slow when you felt so amazing; nonetheless, he continued with his agonizing pace that left the two of you spluttering for each other’s embrace.

When the discomfort and pain dwindled, and the latter was substituted with pleasure, only then did moans arise again. Your hands splayed across his back once his rhythm began to quicken. His lips were ghosting over your neck, whispering filthy words that only seemed to excite you further. It didn’t take long to feel his hand trail the side of your thigh, coaxing you into hooking your leg around his waist. 

His name was the only word your mind kept trailing back to. It was the only word your mouth was compelled to say when a certain thrust hit the perfect spot, or when his adventurous hands itched to explore you completely. 

“Harder…” You choked out, knowing that your voice sounded breathless and erratic. “Please, Jacob… I need you.”

For Jacob, there were only a few words he needed to hear you say to make him utterly undone. He was just about to add onto that list, feeling his lower body twitch and his lips betraying him by letting out an impulsive groan. He did what you said for the most part, but there was always a hint of hesitation in his movements. Regardless, he had established a tempo to his thrusts that was clamorously sending the bed into the wall and back. Coupled with the obscene noises the two of you were making, it was shocking that someone hadn’t alerted the authorities on suspicion of wrongdoings.

The thing that had Jacob so _susceptible_ in those moments was the passion present amongst you two. Such tenderness and affection reciprocated between you two was scarce, mainly because someone was always an obstruction in the way. Whether it were all-knowing Evie (who knew for a long, _damn_ time that this was bound to happen), or oblivious Henry that would unintentionally ruin the sentiment of intimacy, the mood would always vanish as a result. Now, as Jacob was beginning to feel you not only as a woman but as his legitimate partner, it was taking everything within him to not drive you into the bed with shameless thrusts of the hips.

You arched your back, a thrill coursing through your body to feel Jacob so close in proximity. Lost in his rampant thoughts, Jacob had unknowingly left a trail of red marks along your chest and collarbone. He was preoccupied with adding another, ignoring your fidgeting underneath him. 

“Jacob, for God’s sake-” You say, an airy laugh following your words. “My clothes do not cover that far up my neck.”

He’s silent against you, until you hear him pulling away from your skin. With a satisfied smirk on his face, he sent you a playful, raised-brow look... It was hard to find the action anything but attractive. “Is essential for you to cover them up?”

“No, but-”

“Then don’t.”

A hard breath was ripped from your lungs, feeling him adjust his position over you in order to enter you at a much greater force. You were shocked to see how audacious Jacob was acting, even if it was an aspect of his personality you had grown to acknowledge. It just felt a bit odd, maybe even a bit embarrassing, considering no experience like this has ever happened to you before. Instead of vocalizing your thoughts, you took his chin and guided him down to your lips again. It was better than ruining the steamy environment the both of you created to relish in.

With the heels of your feet, you pressed into his calves. To push him deeper inside of you, realizing how much you delighted in feeling his thrusts driving you into your sheets. His response was a gasp that feigned surprise, only to meet your gaze while he obeyed your soundless command. Your sweaty palms graced his skin, unable to hold onto him tightly without clawing your nails into his smooth skin. Even if you did so on accident, he would breathlessly encourage you to do so again. He found your wild behavior exhilarating, craving for more of it once he internally accepted how arousing it truly was.

You couldn’t think properly anymore. Each second passed by unnoticed, for all you could feel was Jacob and how _deep_ he was inside of you. Accompanied with his teeth and tongue working their ways on your exposed skin, you found it fortunate enough to remember your own name in those exultant moments. As for Jacob, who occasionally let out guttural cusses against your shoulder with his eyes squeezed tight, he was unable to find any place better to be than between your knees, right then and there.

The consistent sounds of his thrusts rang throughout the room, and quite possibly beyond, along with a few loud moans coming from either one of you. Jacob would sometimes stop and take a moment to verbalize his obscenities (or comment on how beautiful you looked), before adjusting his posture and resuming with his work. You knew you wouldn’t last for much longer if he continued with this.

“Keep moaning, love,” He whispered huskily, as you felt the strength in all of his movements while your hands rested on his biceps. “Just like that…”

“God, Jacob…” You heaved, unable to catch a breath. “I already am.” 

The innermost areas of your thighs were beginning to ache, and the stars in your eyes were starting to multiply. You were aware just how drenched the sheets underneath your lower body were, an intermingled stain of sweat and cum. The same could be said for the space in between your thighs. Feeling yourself reaching a breaking point, you begged for Jacob to thrust faster into you. It wouldn’t be long now, to feel the same burst of adrenaline and ecstasy dominate your senses until your limbs went slack with exhaustion. You were lusting after the release, and so was Jacob.

It all hit you at once, just how it did before. The vibrations that originated from your lower body spread outward, encompassing your body until you felt the very Earth stutter on its axis. You could feel tears of overwhelming gratification fall out of the corners of your eyes, onto the pillows you were pressing your face into. Jacob’s breathing faltered, the pulsing within you halted to stop. 

A silence overtook the both of you, feeling Jacob brazenly thrust one last time into you, before the hot spurts of his own release filled you up in his stead. Incoherent phrases were exchanged, as well as gasps for breaths. Growls rang close to your ear, your name intermixed with cusses --so _vulgar_ yet endearing to hear. Your skin was buzzing and your legs still shivering from the aftermath. Jacob trembled in your embrace, quietly holding you within his arms. 

The mute stillness of the room was too beautiful to be ruined suddenly, so in that position you stayed. With your hands still stroking his hair and neck, while he pressed gentle kisses on your collarbone and shoulder. It was difficult not to meet his gaze, once he cupped your chin with a hand and led your eyes back to his. He pulled you into a chaste kiss, one reminiscent to the first one you two shared. Your mouths almost timid against the other’s, scared of pulling away too early or too late. It all came back to Jacob to part gradually from your mouth, his thumb trailing lightly across your bottom lip.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

It really did not take an expert to figure that out, with the way he acted towards you. The way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you. With the ways he kissed you, held you, and made love to you. It was all coming from a man who had been pulled in deep into the enigma of love, so far in that there was no way he was getting out now. You and Jacob were bound together for the rest of your days, by the looks of it.

“I love you too, Jacob.”

You replied in a barely-audible whisper, eyes trailing over each one of his dark, hardened features. He seemed so changed from all the events that occurred, with his only solace being you. Your hand traveled and stayed on the crook of his neck, wondering how different your lives would be if you rejected to follow in your Father’s footsteps, to pursue your education rather than continue in your family’s legacy. Perhaps you would have been a respected doctor or teacher of some sort, or maybe you would have started a business of your own. You would have been under the false illusion of contentment while there was a strong-willed, reckless man awaiting you here, in the very heart of London. 

Maybe Jacob would have acted upon his impulsive manners without you in his life, putting a greater strain between him and Evie, all while forgetting who he is as a person. Although he is still impetuous as ever, at least now he’s got those warm, loving eyes of yours to come back to. The ones that propelled him to keep fighting from the start.

A soft breath from Jacob. A dry swallow from you. His hand moved through the strands of your hair to grip at your neck, pulling your mouth back into his. At harmony at last, finishing a night of intoxicating bliss with a final act of deep affection. 

With that, you were his again. And to think, it all started the very night Jacob Frye barreled into you, sending the then-adolescent-and-foolish pair flailing into the dusty pavements of Crawley. Believing you to be a Templar, when in reality, you became the single most important being in his life. 

Jacob had always been yours. Owned by you, the brilliant, young Assassin who held a lifetime of light in your eyes. Enough to awaken him from the clutches of the darkness his life seemed to imprison him within.

-x- 

_And with the quaking of the soul, heart fluttering like a dove,_  
 _He fell enamored with the words, “Awaken, My Love!”_

_It was you he fell in love with, you from the start._  
_And without you, he knew that he was bound to fall apart._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you all enjoy this one... if there is a desire to see an epilogue (as i believe to have one in mind), feel free to voice your wishes in the comments. perhaps i would be able to get one out soon, if many people are interested. 
> 
> like always, any comments/criticism to help improve my writing are deeply encouraged and appreciated. it is great to hear the opinions of you all! <3


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